Terry Takes a Tumble
"Sunday morning, up with the lark;
Think I’ll take a run in the park;
Hey, hey, hey it’s a beaut of a day!"
Terry was in a good mood, the first in a long time, as he sang in the shower. He giggled to himself, okay he was up with the galahs and not with the larks, but he still fancied a run.
Drying his hair as he walked back into the master bedroom, he dropped the towel onto the floor as he opened the door to the walk-in closet. It was more like a small room than a closet, and not for the first time he wondered whether Toni ever had enough clothes to fill it up.
He looked out a black vest and a pair of black shorts, pulled them on, then sat on the edge of the bed as he tied up his trainers. He glanced over at the clock beside his bed. Bloody hell, it was still only 4:30am, no worries though. He felt like a very long run and as it was still so early, and a Sunday, he decided he’d head into town. It would be dead at this time in the morning, and he wouldn’t get bothered…especially by that nosy old shopkeeper.
As he closed the door behind him and jogged down his drive, he thought it would be nice to have someone to run with. Maybe he’d get himself a dog; it would be company at home as well as on his runs, and as he’d told Dino that he was going to do most of his work from home now, there would be no worry about it being looked after. On the odd occasion that he may have to leave, perhaps he could ask the new vet to keep an eye on it. He still couldn’t really get his head around the fact that Roberta from the bank was going to be the town vet.
Bobbie was up bright and early. Max had given her a week off from the bank to get the surgery ready for opening. She was hoping another ten days or so should do it. Max and Ed had helped her move a lot of the heavy equipment and she would never be able to repay them. Now all she had left were the few boxes of medical supplies that were in the back of her Ute. Her drugs were being delivered at the end of the week, and the secure fridges were being installed tomorrow. She laughed when she thought about them; they looked more like a safe than a fridge. She thought it would be like being in the bank when they were in place.
Terry was passing through the outskirts of the town; he slowed from the racing pace he’d been keeping up. If by chance anyone was up and about, he didn’t want to look like the hounds of hell were after him. Now that he wasn’t concentrating on his running pace, he could afford to look around him as he ran. The Glen certainly looked as if it was still sound asleep. He checked his watch to see that it was still too early for the residents to be about.
Something caught his eye and he turned slightly. There was a silver grey Ute outside the new veterinary surgery. Surely Roberta wasn’t there on a Sunday? He changed direction and headed towards the vehicle.
Not watching the road, he came in contact with what was probably the only pothole in the entire Glen, and before he knew what hit him…he was down on the ground.
Bobbie stood by the door and stretched. One more box and everything would be inside, she could then stop for an early breakfast before she started the big job of putting everything in place. It was so quiet she could hear the soft rustle of the leaves in the breeze. She then heard something else…footfalls. She turned in the direction of the sound. A man dressed in black was running towards her. At first, she didn’t know who it was, but soon realised it was Terry Thorne. She was just about to wave hello when she saw him go down. She waited a couple of seconds for him to get up and dust himself off, but his voice reached her in the quiet street.
"Fuck it all to hell!" Terry spat, holding his calf with both hands, realising that he was bleeding. He looked around to see what he’d landed on. If it wasn’t bad enough that he fell on the only bit of bad blacktop in the entire Glen, he’d landed on what was most likely the only piece of litter…a broken bottle; at least it was broken now.
Bobbie reached his side and squatted down to look at the damage. She could see that his leg was still bleeding badly from the red stream escaping the death grip his hands had on his calf.
"Stay as still as you can, Mr. Thorne. I’ll be right back." She sprinted back to the Ute and opened the last box on the back. With luck, it contained a lot of dressings, and she was able to find a pressure pad. Rushing back to where Terry was sitting swearing, she once again squatted down beside him to do what she could for him.
As she wrapped the pressure pad tightly to try to stop the bleeding, she heard Terry gasp in pain. "Christ on a crutch, Luv. That’s more than a bit tender."
Smiling a sorry smile, she stood ready to help him up. It was all he could do to stand, so she left him leaning against a fence while she drove the Ute over. Terry was able to sit on the tailgate and rode the short distance across the road. Bobbie managed to get him inside and onto the examination table.
"Congratulations, Mr. Thorne…you’re my first customer."
